


Scared of the consequences

by hazzard



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-11-02 15:58:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10947864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazzard/pseuds/hazzard
Summary: Or, 'they're both scared lil shits who should just f*cking communicate already.'





	1. Chapter 1

He wondered if it’d feel the same.

But he wasn’t sure if he had the right to wonder. He’d drank the Haig with someone else. He hadn’t realized it wasn’t really her for far too long. He’d let his feelings get in the way of one of his most important duties: to protect her.

Yes, she was completely badass. He knew she could take on the entire world in a heartbeat.

But she couldn’t always protect herself.

So, he’d taken that as his mission. But he’d failed. He’d failed _her_. He’d failed her in Bahrain. He hadn’t been able to save her from Aida the first time. Or the second. 

He’d failed and he’d let her down. He had no business wondering if kissing the real May would feel the same as kissing the fake one. Or if kissing the real May would even be an option.

He’d failed her and he had no right to wonder. Or to have dreams about it. Or to look at her lips and think about it. 

So he tried not to. He really, really tried.

And he failed that too.

 

She hated that she didn’t know what he was thinking. She usually did. She’d learned his tells, she’d learned how he functioned. But there were times when he’d pull away from her and she’d have no idea why. Or, she knew why. He was hiding something from her. But what? And why?

No idea.

She was supposed to know him. She was supposed to know him and everything important there was to know _about_ him so she’d be able to protect him. She hated when he purposefully kept her out of the loop, when he kept her at arms length.

Hated, hated, _hated_ it.

 

He was pretty sure she was mad at him. He didn’t know why, but it made everything a whole lot easier. He’d always been bad at pretending around her. Somehow, she always knew. So he had to keep her away.

But he missed her. He hadn’t had her for so long, and now she was here and he still couldn’t have her. Because he just had to have been so damn stupid. Because he just had to love her the wrong way.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid._

He was sitting at his desk, trying to figure out their next move and trying not to miss her, when Daisy rushed in.

“May… There’s something…”

She was pale and looked terrified, her breath short in her throat. 

“I don’t know what’s happening, she just collapsed and…”

“Where?” His voice was surprisingly steady for someone who’d just gotten a knife through the heart. Or it felt like he had, anyway.

“The medbay, Simmons was checking her when she just collapsed and-”

He was already out the door.

When he arrived, she was laying on an examination table and she wasn’t moving. Neither was his heart.

Simmons looked up as he barged through the door, but then she’d turned all her attention back to May. She put a needle in her arm and her fingers gently and affectionately stroked her skin.

“She’s ok.” she said, smiling, relief clear on her face. “She’s dehydrated and completely exhausted, but she’s fine. Just needs some rest.”

He breathed again.

Simmons continued. “I want to get her to a bed, she needs to sleep now and-”

“I’ll do it.”

Jemma and Daisy looked at him, then at each other. He could’ve sworn they’d shared a little smile.

“That’s fine, Sir.” 

He went to the table and scooped her up in his arms, grabbing the pole with the dripping bag with his free hand. Her body felt warm against his and he took a tighter grip around her shoulder and torso. He told himself it was so she wouldn’t fall, but in reality, he just felt a strong need to hold her.

 

She woke up with a hand in her own. She hadn’t opened her eyes yet, but she knew it was him. Her heart felt light. He still cared.

“Please be ok, Melinda. Please…” 

He sounded so vulnerable and her heart ached. 

She still hadn’t opened her eyes and she took long, steady breaths, pretending to be asleep.

“You need to take care of yourself. I need you to be ok at all times, you hear me?”

His voice was so affectionate she almost let herself believe that he did more than care.

His thumb kept stroking her hand and her whole body warmed at the touch.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve let you down. I tried to keep you safe, to be objective enough to keep you safe, but that just lead me to letting you down even more because I can’t be objective because I kissed the LMD and I love-” 

His breath hitched in his throat.

She opened her eyes and sat up. 

“What did you just say?”

He stared at her, absolutely dumbfounded, horror written all over his face. “I… I…” he tired. “I didn’t know you were awake…”

She wasn’t even really listening. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest. “You kissed fake me?” She stared at him with fire that was raging in her whole damn body at this point. “You _kissed_ her?!

He put up his hands, trying to calm her with a soft voice. “Yes, yes, I know and I’m really sorry but right now you have to _calm down_ , please wait with giving me the shit I so rightly deserve until you’ve gotten back your strength, ok?”

She gave him another angry look. _That piece of…_

She took some breaths, trying to gather herself. Then she looked at him again. “You kissed her.”

His head was hanging, his face looked flushed and he wouldn’t look at her. “Yes.” He cleared his throat and began to talk faster. “I didn’t know she wasn’t you and there was a moment and she leaned in and I just thought that _maybe_ that meant that you felt something… So… I just…” He looked at her again, truly ashamed. “I’m so sorry.”

She furrowed her brows. “You didn’t know she wasn’t me?”

He looked confused. “What? Of course I didn’t know, why would I have kissed her if I didn’t think it was y-” He stopped himself. “You think I’d kiss her _knowing_ it wasn’t you? Why would I do that?” 

“Because” she shrugged, “you wanted to know what it’d feel like but didn’t want to take any of the consequences.” She locked eyes with him. “A kiss would change everything.”

“Yes.” He breathed, a long breath, almost a sigh. “I wanted it to change everything.”

She felt tears welling up. She was exhausted and heartbroken and tired, just so damn tired.

He looked at her, horrified, again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Why did you choose to do it when she was me _,_ then? Is it because I’m so closed off and too robotic or-”

He shook his head, violently, and grabbed her hand. “No. You hear me? _No.”_

He squeezed her hand. “I did it because _she_ dared to, because she could act like there wouldn’t be any consequences. And-” He looked sad again. “I needed that push.”

“Because you wouldn’t want to deal with the consequences?”

“No.” he answered, softly and quietly. “Because I’ve never been sure if you would.”

She looked down, not being able to meet his eyes. “I don’t know.” Her heart was breaking and damn, damn, _damn_ her fake copy for being so careless, for so blindly going after what she wanted, for forcing her, _actual her,_ to have this conversation right now. She felt a tear travel against her cheek and she didn’t even care. “I don’t know if I would.”

He nodded. “I understand, I’m not expecting anything and-”

“I love you.” 

He stared at her. His eyes were big, his jaw hanging to the floor and she would laugh if the situation wasn’t so… _not_ laughable.

“I love you,” she continued, quickly so she wouldn’t chicken out halfway through, “but you died.” She bit her lip, hard, to keep the tears in and took another breath, “you died once and then you almost died again and I _can’t_ …” Her heart and her eyes were turning into liquid now. “I can’t let myself fully love you and then lose you, I just can’t lose you, I can’t…”

“Hey, hey, hey…” He stood up from the chair he’d been sitting in and sat down at the bed beside her. He put one hand on her arm and used the other to delicately wipe away her tears with his fingers. “I’m scared too. I’m terrified. That’s what happens when you love someone.”

His hand stopped on her cheek and she smiled through the tears. “You love me?”

He let the hand on her arm travel up to the nape of her neck. “ _Of course_ I do.”

She let herself rest into his touch and closed her eyes. They sat like that, silently, together, for a long time.

She grabbed him and pulled him to her, their foreheads touching. She leaned closer. He absentmindedly licked his lips and she smiled inside. When their lips touched, it was everything and nothing liked she’d imagined all at once. 

He opened up, inviting her in, and she took the bait. She breathed into him and her hands were on his neck, his hands were in her hair, his lips were soft and firm at the same time and she let herself want. She finally let herself want.

When they pulled away, he was slightly panting. “That was just…” He looked at her. “ _Wow_.” She wanted to laugh. “Better than her?” He nodded, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah. _Definitely_.”

He looked at her, becoming serious. “Scared of the consequences?”

She nodded.

He nodded back. “Yeah, me too.”

Then they kissed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based on a prompt.
> 
> send those to me if you want (razzledazzlewaffle.tumblr.com)
> 
> kudos/comments are aaaalways greatly appreciated.
> 
> hugs & hugs!!


	2. Chapter 2

He wasn't going to rush this.

They'd kissed. Melinda May had kissed him. Melinda May had told him she loved him. He couldn't believe it.

He couldn't believe this was reality and not a dream and he wanted her, _damn_ how much he wanted her, he wanted to touch her, he wanted to undress her, he wanted to feel her skin...

But he shouldn't rush this. Even though he wanted to. Really, really wanted to.

He sat in practically the only room that wasn't completely trashed and he thought about her.

Nothing new here.

 

 

Melinda liked Jemma Simmons. She was smart, compassionate and had a good head on her shoulders. Plus, she was tough, capable and very good at her job. Melinda May respected all of those qualities. And, she liked Jemma. Or, she did, usually. Right now she didn't. She really, really didn't.

He'd been between her legs. He'd been lying between her legs, he'd kissed her neck, his hands had been in her hair (Phil seemed to have a thing for her hair. She made a mental note of that.), he'd kissed her mouth and then her neck again, and she'd felt his excitement rub against her. She'd let her hands travel up his back, she'd pulled his shirt out of his pants and put her hands on his skin, hissing because of his soft nibbling at her throat and the realization that this was finally, _finally_ , happening, when...

Simmons knock hadn't been rude or hard, neither had her 'I was just coming to check up on you.' It'd all been soft and respectful, like Jemma herself. But the magic had broke anyway.

He'd stopped touching her, he'd sat up and he'd turned away from her. She'd seen him run his hands over his face and she'd heard him breath in and out. Then he'd turned back to her. "I'm gonna go talk to her." Before she'd had a chance to answer, he'd already stood up and walked towards the door, opening it just enough so he could get through it, and closed it softly behind him. She'd heard his soft voice from the outside. "She's asleep. I wanted to keep an eye on her, just to be safe. She seems ok now, though." She'd lied back down again from her previous 'half raised on elbows' position, giving out a small puff of frustration.

When the door had opened and he'd come in again, she hadn't looked at him. He'd sat down on the bed, close, but still keeping a respectful distance. She hated that distance. Always had. She didn't want distance. She wanted as little distance as possible.

"You should sleep." She'd looked up at him then. He'd looked at her with a face that had said nothing more than 'respectful, decent guy with a friendly concern for her well-being'. She hated that look. Always had.

She'd quickly checked his pants. Yup. Tent. Didn't get more 'friendly distance between friends' than that.

"I should leave so you can get some sleep.", he'd continued. And he'd left.

 

She tried to sleep. She really did. Her body felt weak and her eyelids were barely able to stay open. She craved sleep, her body and mind needed it. But she thought about him and sleep wouldn't come. Nothing new here.

She sat up, throwing the blanket on the floor. She felt frustrated and hopeless. Yes, he loved her. She believed that now. She wasn't sure if she'd ever believed otherwise. But you could love anyone. It didn't mean you were ready to be with them. It didn't mean you _wanted_ to be with them. And he hadn't wanted to be with her; he'd left. Her heart hurt as she was walking around in her room. She wanted to scream. They got so close, they always got so close, and then... Andrew, Bahrain, Audrey. Him dying. He thinking she'd betrayed her. Saving the world, trying not to die. Worrying about the kids. Andrew again. Her leaving. Saving the world, trying to protect every person on earth, while simultaneously not dying. The LMD, the framework. Him kissing her when she wasn't her. Saving the world and trying not to die in the process. It was always something and it was never the right time. So she'd loved him and she'd thought 'Later. When things clear up. Then, it'll be our time.' But things hadn't cleared up, things were never going to clear up, and she still loved him. It was never the right time but she dreamed and she longed and she pined and she loved him. Then, before, after, now. She always loved him. And she'd thought that'd be enough. Loving him, and getting signals, picking up on the subtle flirting and the way he looked at her: loving him, and being pretty sure that he loved her back. She'd really, truly thought that'd be enough. That that'd be all they'd ever get.

But after that kiss, after his confession that effectively diminished the doubt she had left, after his body being so close to hers and him touching her in a way that diminished her doubt even further... _That's_ what she wanted. She wanted to love him, openly. She wanted to have her doubt diminished a little more each day.

But maybe he didn't want the same thing.

She sat down on her bed again, feeling absolutely defeated. Her doubt started creeping back with every new second and was suddenly very much present again. She picked up her phone.

 

He sat at his desk, thinking about how soft her hair had felt in his hands, when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He was distracted by thoughts of her smile just before her lips had touched his, and he didn't look at the screen before he answered. "Coulson."

"Could you... come over?"

Melinda's voice sounded a little shaky and his heart almost did a flip in his chest.

"Is everything ok?" he asked, suddenly terrified, standing up and walking towards the room she was in.

"Could you just come over? _Please?_ " She sounded vulnerable now and his fear increased. He could count the number of times Melinda had been vulnerable in front of him on one hand.

"I'm on my way." he said, clenching his teeth. Then he hang up and tried really hard to stop from running to her as hard as he possibly could.

 

When he reached her door, he stopped. He tried to slow his breath, to hide the panting, for two reasons: 1. So she wouldn't know how out of shape he truly was and be pissed and 2. because he didn't want her to know he'd sprinted to her like a mad man because he had a hunch that she might, maybe, possibly, be distressed. He took a breath and leaned against the door, his forehead almost touching it. He was such an idiot. He was such an idiot and he loved her so much. This was bad. This was so bad.

 

She had heard him get to her door, with haste in his steps. But now it was quiet. She was just about to stand up and go to the door and check, when it opened.

He looked worried and a little embarrassed as he was coming towards her. He sat down and reached out a hand to touch her hand, but pulled it back. That hurt more than she ever wanted to admit.

He glanced at her. "Are you ok? Is everthing-"

His 'friendly guy' persona was back. That hurt too. "Yes." she answered, suddenly a little pissed. "I'm fine."

He sat still and gave her a look, urging her to continue.

"I can't sleep."

She looked at him. "I can't sleep because I kept thinking about how you left-"

He looked back, confused. "Melinda, I-"

"You tell me you love me and I think 'Yes, finally, he's ready and I'm ready and this is _finally_ happening', and you..." She wanted to cry. "You run away."

 He stared at her, eyes widened. "I'm sorry, I-" he stuttered.

"You know, if you wanted to change your mind or take back what you said or did you could've just told me and-" She tried to calm down. She couldn't blame him for not loving her the way she loved him. She shouldn't be mad at him for that. That wasn't fair. 

She couldn't look at him. She wouldn't be able to take his rejection. Not now. Not when they'd gotten further than they'd ever gotten before.

She tried to take one breath after the other and prepare for having her heart broken.

"I'm so sorry."

She tightened up. This was it.

"I'm so, so sorry." His voice killed her. Even if he didn't love her the same way she loved him, she knew he loved her. She knew that hurting her would hurt him, too. She hated that. She hated that not only her heart was going to break, but his too. The heart of the person she loved the most in the world would break, and it'd be her fault.

"I'm so sorry that I made you feel like I didn't-"

She didn't dare to breathe or move.

He sighed. She glanced at him through the corner of her eye and she saw him running a hand over his face. He took a long breath and continued. "I love you more than anything in this world. Ok? I don't-"

Her heart was racing.

"I made you think I wanted to take it back, I made you feel like I don't-" He sounded pissed now. At himself.

She turned to him. "I love you, too. And I'm the one who should be sorry."

He shook his head, but she continued. "I'm sorry for screaming at you and doubting your word but I'm just-" She smiled, her eyes watery.

He scooped closer and kissed her cheek.

She looked him in the eyes. They were close, now, They were so close she could count his individual eyelashes. "I know I seem like I want space. And that you just wanted to give me space because that's what you think I want."

He didn't answer, but his eyes told her that she was right.

"And usually, I might be like that, usually I want that, but..." He looked at her with so much admiration, her heart jumped. "Not with you. With you I want as little space as possible."

"Is that why you called?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He smiled. Oh, boy. She was screwed.

He kissed her, quickly, and then he pulled her closer, hugging her tight and softly stroking her back.

She breathed into his chest. He smelled so good. Oh, boy. She was so damn _screwed._

She whispered into him. "Would you... sleep with me?"

She looked up. He looked at her, eyebrows raised, smirking and biting his lip. Oh, boy, oh boy, _oh boy_.

She grinned back. "Sleep, as in... _sleep._ "

He was about to turn into a laying position, with her in his arms, when she stopped him. "No. Under covers." She smirked. "Which means..." She looked at his white shirt and grey pants and nodded. "Clothes off."

He stood up and quickly complied with the shoes and the pants, but then he hesitated. He threw a slightly desperate look her way. She froze and felt like the biggest idiot. _The scar._

She stood up too, and put a hand to his chest. "You don't have to, if you don't want to."

He shook his head. "No, I want to.  I don't want to hide anything from you anymore."

She looked at him. _As long as you're sure._

He looked back. _Yes._

He slowly began to unbutton his shirt. She watched his face the entire time. When the shirt was unbuttoned, he let it fall to the floor. She let her eyes wander and land on his chest, breath hitching in her throat. She looked at his face again, eyes filling with tears. He reached out a hand and wiped away her tears. "It's ok." he said, gently. "I'm still alive."

She reached out an hand, too, but then she stopped. "Is it ok if I..." He nodded and she traced the scar with her fingers. When she'd reached the end, she went back up and placed a kiss at the start. 

"I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad to be here."

 

She felt his heartbeat against her back. His arms were draped around her shoulder and her waist. His arms were strong, his skin was warm and soft and she felt truly, and completely, safe. He placed a kiss at the crook of her neck and she wiggled closer to him. She smiled when she felt the bulge in his boxers against her ass. 'Friendly distance between friends.' Well, not anymore. And if she had any say in the matter, never again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got a prompt asking for 'some ah... heavier philinda kissing?'
> 
> you ask, i deliver. (also, this isn't all!! gonna get even heavier. come back for next chapter *wink wink*)
> 
> all my love! xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they... you know.
> 
> (But because it's them, it ain't gonna be easy.)

It'd transformed into everything he knew. He knew now, how it felt waking up next to her. How her skin smelled, how that smell set itself in his sheets. Sheets which only smelled of detergent, had been less likely to disappear. As of now, he could lose everything he knew.

 

They hadn't had sex. He couldn't bring himself to it. He'd dreamed about it for about 30 years. She was in his bed every night, tightly pressed up his chest. That first night, when she'd called and he'd come over, she'd kissed him eagerly. He'd kissed back, he'd kissed her shoulders, he'd felt the muscles in her stomach beneath his palms. She'd ripped of his shirt and pushed her hands up to his chest. When she'd touched the scar, that panic he'd felt when she'd kissed it that first time came back, tenfold. He'd quickly retreated from her touch. He'd seen her eyes. When he'd apologized, mumbling some excuse about this being too much to take all at once, she'd nodded, giving him space without question. She'd nodded again and settled into his arms when he asked if he could stay anyway. She'd been understanding and hadn't tried to push him. Not then, not once in the weeks that followed. But he'd seen her eyes. He'd seen them once, for 1.2 seconds, that one time, and never again after that. Still, those eyes were the only thing he could think about when she lied next to him, breathing steadily and occasionally humming in her sleep. He'd lie next to her, silently cursing his broken pieces and how they pushed one of the only things in this world who could somehow keep them together, further and further away. He'd wait until she'd fallen asleep, and he'd cry against her hair. And the hollowness in his chest grew bigger each night, and each morning when she'd left for her morning workout and the only thing assuring him that she'd been there at all was the smell in sheets.

 

He cried against her hair.

She'd made up checkpoints in her head, a checklist of things she was to do. Do not touch him unless he initiates it. Touch him in the way he touches you, and only in that way. Always stay in his room instead of yours, so he'll feel more at ease. Leave before he wakes up in the morning, to give him space. Stay up all night, just in case. Pretend to be asleep, so he won't feel self conscious about crying. Pretend to pull his arms tighter around you in your sleep, to give him comfort.

Don't ask. Don't push. He'll come to you when he's ready. This isn't about you. He needs you to do this for him right now. He loves you, you know he does. Love him back.

 

One night, he'd whispered tearful apologizes to her, and her heart hadn't been able to take it. She'd grabbed his hand that was resting on her abdomen, and she'd squeezed it. He'd froze, before sighing and saying those words again. "I'm sorry." She moved up their entwined hands, and she kissed his knuckles, before putting it back down again. 

 

It hadn't happened quickly, but when it happened, it happened fast.

They were sitting in the office, doing paperwork. She stood up, about to leave. He stood up with her, and walked her to the door. He touched her arm, briefly, as a goodbye. Before she'd registered what was happening, he kissed her. They paused, everything that'd happened, everything they were, travelling between their eyes. He kissed her again. She kissed back. His hands were hot. He pushed her up against the door and his hands and his lips were everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. Her shirt on the floor.  His shirt landing beside it. He sucked on her skin and it'd leave a mark. The others would see it and put two and two together. Everyone would know. She didn't care. She wanted more, more touching, more lips, more hands, more skin. More, more, more.

Her legs were around his waist. He reached behind her and grabbed her ass. It was like fire shooting through her body. He lifted her higher, her center rubbing against his cock in the process. She pulled away for a second to look at him. "You're hard. " _You want this._ His eyes met hers. He was slightly panting and breathing slowly, his head a little tilted. He was sexier than she'd ever seen him before. "I want you." His voice was deep and husky. She almost whimpered at how he looked at her, and she kissed him again.

He carried her to the edge of desk and put her down on top of it. She opened the button of her black jeans, and he helped to pull them off. He rushed back to her lips again, and she parted her legs so he could fit in between them. He drew away from her and let his fingers lightly stroke between her legs. They brushed up against her clit and she had to bite her lip. He gave her a half smirk that made her happy that she was sitting down, because it turned her legs into jello. "You're wet." She rolled her eyes at his teasing tone, but secretly it made it difficult for her to breathe. She shrugged. "I want you." He let out a little laugh, and then he kissed her again.

 

Once they'd both fallen apart, panting and sweating, he kissed her one last time, slowly, carefully, savoring every sound from her, every taste. As they moved into an upright position, he studied her and her big eyes and flushed cheeks made him having to stop himself from pushing her down and go right to round two.

He brushed her sticky hair away from her forehead. "God, I love you."

She smiled and turned her head to kiss his wrist. "I know."

"Should we move this to your bedroom?"

She drew her eyebrows together, but nodded, smiled the biggest smile he'd seen in years, possibly ever, and quickly pressed her lips to his. "Why _my_ bedroom, though?"

_It's impossible to escape your smell there. I never want to be without it again._

"It's closer."

She hopped off the desk and grabbed his hand, pulling her with him towards their clothes. "Let's go."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this was hot. 
> 
> Thank you so much for having read/enjoyed this story!! xx this particular one is over now, but there's more where that came from, promise! *wink, wink*
> 
> all my love


End file.
